The Washington critic., 1887-01-06

l'Hutr, trusting passion lnht KNOW VI"
bounds. and he profcssed TO return her
love.
At last, he went away, and eviry
body said he would never return-,ll
except his fair, young love. She
watched and waited, and was rewarded.
lie did come, assured her Of his love
and again departed. When he re.
turned the last time he brought her the
silkcn robe, of which | have spoken,
and begged her TO wear II In memory
of him. One evening, when the sun
was setting, he stood beside her at the
little cabin door and told her that he
was going away. II would be long,
long time before he returned, but he
would be preparing a home for her,
and then when he came back he
would take her away, and she should
ever wear silien gowns, and they
would spend long, long life Of happi-
ness together. And In the sunset
glow, beside the ever. flowing waters Of
the silent river, she clung to him with
white set face, her young heart break
ing with love and sorrow. But he
took her In his strong arms and said so
tenderly: "The time will pass quickly,
my darling, and some golden eve,
when the sun is setting, just as II Is
now, will come back up the dear old
river in my boat and you, you will
await me, love, just as you are now, In
the dress | love to see you wear, and
then we will sail away together over
the sun.lit waters to our beautiful
home" And he gathered cluster of
wide blown pink blossoms that grew
where the tiny wavelets kissed the
shore, and placing them in the little
hands, kissed the mute. white lips
and was gone.
Years have passed. and each evening,
with mistaken faith, stands the girl.
woman in the door, clad in the silken
robe with fresh pink blossoms in her
hands, the sunlight streaming through
her golden hair, and eyes that gaze
with love and longing over the bright,
blue waters.
After this threw myself, heart aud
soul, into my work. tried to imagine
the dcsolatc young woman's emotions
as she stood there. ! stayed week after
week. worked more Willingly, and
at last, one evening, | gazed with joy
unknown upon the living picture and
back again TO the canvas--it was per.
feet; there was the expression MS II in
life. My fortune was made. ("
Several months later, in one of.the
principal art galleries of the city Of W.,
my native home, was consplcuously dis.
played My Picture; flushed and
framed, and hung just where the sub.
dued light fell tcnderly across the
pathetically beautiful face. Truly, l
had become famous; people floclel to
see 1t. All hours OF the day an en-.
thusiastic crowd stood before it. All
admired, and apart from friends and
strangers ! had the satisfaction Of
hearing 1t most highly complimented
by old experienced masters and critics.
There 1t was, the same, the very
same picture that greeted my sight on
that summer evening on the river A
dim outline of the cabin door,
wreathed In flowers and vines, and In 1t
the slight girlish figure in its clinging
robes of soft blue silk, the throat and
shoulders cleaning like marble. The
slanting rays of the evening sun red
dening that flood of molten gold that
waved about the sad, white face and
billowcd away to the little feet, great.
wondrous dark eyes that pierced the
very soul with their loving, longing
look, as If gazing away into the dis.
tance, red, red lips that seemed almost to
tremble, and in the delicate white
hands were gracefully clasped the
wide-blown pink blossoms. At her
feet had traced the words:
"He cometh not, she said.
How deeply appreciated the oft re.
rcated remark, you need not have
underlined that phrase, any one can
sec by the expression OF that face all
the picture involves overheard
handsome young woman remark on
one occasion: ~ cannot leave this
picture, il bears an irresistible at.
traction. | just love to stand aud look
at 1t and weave pretty romances. Why,
one can imagine such girl might hare
lived, but, then, hope not" she
added softly, for, though so lovely,
how sad her life would have been"
And almost unaccOuntably i dashed n
hot tear from my cheek. But, proof
against all inquiries, friendly and other
wise, have kept her little story until
now, when ] may not he left to keep
1t longer. have been sought after,
toasted and ilattered. | have been of.
fered fabulous sums to paint 1t again
but, yet, Infinitely more precious than
eucomiums, and far more desirable than
pecuniary solicitations, 10 me are
some tender recolleclions that ! shall
ever cherish and the sweet thought
that My Picture" is my own, and
mine alone. Long since removed from
the Art Gallery, 1t hangs in my favorite
studio, just above my desk as | sit writ.
ing. On summer evenings, when the
sun is setting, love to sit and gaze
upon the ideal face-gaze enrap,ured,
until in fancy am again upon the
quiet river, with the little cabin door.
way before me, and In 1t My Pic.
ture." Ioften sit thus until the sun
goes down, and the cleaning steals
upon me, and, as in the growing dark.
ness, | give one last look at the lovely,
yearning face, | wonder do all
things come TO those who wait"
Surely, after months of waiting, my
great desire came to me-but will It
come to hefg To the girl who, after
long, long years of waiting, still stood
gazing with great despairing eyes, over
the sunlit waters for the lover who did
not Gomez b. b.
The Only w ay 20 Conquer Dyspepsia
1t is perfectly preposterous to Introduce
pepsin and other artificial solvents into the
stomach, In the expectation that they will
assist digestion by acting on the food Itself.
They will not. Nor Is II possible thus to
AL. To-